As we reach out to try getting a larger mainstream to adopt planet friendly farming, rewilding, regenerative and at least not-destructive production and supply chains and localized production-consumption loops, the question of marrying this to the markets and industry is ever alive.
Indeed the focus is to get more to account for more of the dimensions below in all human activity and problem solving, and not do it at the cost of one or the other.
Got me thinking about what the economy bit is vis-a-vis the human experience, and in the context of localization.
Today, we tend to define…
The emissions are going right back up as things unlock.
Consumption is back to being more and more and more mindless
We’re starting to use more fuel and travel more
We’re compensating for time lost like nobody’s business.
Ecommerce and online buying went through the roof!
Global trade in the trivial and ridiculous is inching back up again.
We’ve also added an industry or two, around more fear —
And investments in more are suddenly kosher — no questions asked.
The planet is back under the same level of threat. Maybe more.
Your investments are perfectly safe.
दफ़न करो सब जो गुज़र गया
चलो, आगे की सोचें
दफ़न वो सब जो बिखर गया
क्यों सतह खरोंचें?
जल जाये ओझल हो जाये
जो भी जी झंझोले
मौन के कुछ पल हो जाएं
फिर मौक टटोलें ?
क्यूंकि सबकी हार में ही
कुछों की जीत है
चिताओं पे हाथ सेकना
सदियों की रीत है
सन्नाटों की हर चीख से ही
कल के साम्राज्य बनेंगे
लूट के दी भीख से ही
ऐश्वर्य के हाथ सनेंगे
और कइयों पर कुछ
हमेशा राज करेंगे।
Bury that which is no more
Let’s look at tomorrow
Bury that which we demolished
Why prolong sorrow?
Gather for the storm. Or anyway.
Form cliques, share privilege.
Share the same goals of keeping others out
So somehow, you have more of what’s around
And lesser everyday, but still — whatever’s left.
Or grab and store, just in case.
(Who knows when we might need ten times more?)
The waters rise. The siege prolongs.
The dykes and citadels will not hold forever.
The pretence of certainty fades.
The embrace of the forever, the uncertain, the ever-changing
Wish we’d remembered to embrace it first,
And build along with, not against,
Not keep outside our walls.
(I was about to write this as an FB post, but decided to ‘hide’ it deeper, and make it more permanent, so a post here)
People have been responding to the crazy crises that Covid throws up everyday in various ways.
I’m now starting to see various networks, including corporate and alumni efforts now to share our privilege and create a larger privilege pool for ‘members’ to dip into, not try and fix it so that nobody needs privilege.
I was reminded of the “private sufficiency, public riches” approach that I’d read about and that we sorely miss in most…
Many years ago, I completely randomly created a group on FB called Project 2048. Today, I watched Seaspiracy, finally, which reiterated the threat of the oceans being emptied out by that date if we continued doing what we’re doing. The claim might be not literally true, but it’s still a strong indicator of the damage we’re causing.
Given the complexity of the economic web interwoven with the technological one that we’ve created, and give the level at which our lives, aspirations and emotions are now interlinked with the destruction of everything around us, and eventually us, I’ll admit I wonder…
When we both existed
Inside the axes our senses can feel
The passing of time
Always had the possibility
of our intersections and moments shared
In different frames, made from a million different dimensions
Most unknown to my little self
— you in the free, the unending, I still trapped —
Time is merely waves
And the boats we sail in drift away
Tossing around in the infinite
Connected through the vastness
Yet — to each other — forever lost.
The thread has ended
The story over, permanently part of ours
No prose added from it anymore
To the large book of stories being written
The image frozen
The voice young for eternity
In scattered, ever more diffused memories
As we all age,
Older, weaker, wiser because what-else
You will, forever
In the blissful state you were in
be forty four.
When does it stop being fresh in the mind?
When does the mind stop grasping
Nothings out of imagination?
Reassembling a non existent reality
From imprints of it captured here and there —
filed away for attempted permanence
Of the fundamentally transient.
When does it become ok?
When does one let go
that which has already gone?
When does it all
truly rest, in peace?